The Professor
			5.5.05
	A Personal Note In a week or so, I’ll be taking a trip to Nicaragua. For those who aren’t familiar with the country, I recommend any newspaper with a marginally decent international section. There are riotous street demonstrations going on these days in the capital, Managua, and there is a chance (as violence doesn’t respect lines drawn in sand) that these will spread to other parts of the country. On top of that, there is always the chance of disease: Hepatitis, Tetanus, Typhoid Fever, Malaria, and so on. I’ve been vaccinated, but that’s like keeping a good maintenance record on the car. You never know. I’ll be traveling to the Land of Typhoid as part of a work-related project. I’d rather not go into the specifics. Suffice it to say that there is a good reason for going (more than one, actually), and I’ve weighed the potential costs to my health against the likely benefits to those who are counting on me – including myself. The chance of death is slim, as is the chance of contracting a debilitating disease, and the chance of reward is relatively greater. So it’s off to Central America. I have reason for optimism because I’m pessimistic. Street fighting and ass-pissing are two things that I’ ve not had the displeasure of witnessing or experiencing, and that’s due in part to the fact that I’ve tried earnestly to avoid both, even when there’s never been a high likelihood of either. The fact that my exposure rate is likely to increase is immaterial as long as my avoidance instincts move in the same direction. I’ll be taking a full bottle of Purell for the ride – trust me – and I’m already aware of the water situation. I’m even aware that, these days, it’s as important to check the seal on the water bottle as it is to get the water from a bottle. I’ve been abroad before, but never like this. Past occasions of nervousness were the result of unknowns that were, well, not that big of a deal. Would I find the train station (despite all of the signs)? Would I meet someone (despite all the friendly people)? Would my traveler’s checks get stolen (despite all of my credit cards)? These were concerns that I could live with, even if I didn’t know it at the time. The kinds of worries I have now are much more severe: What, exactly, does it say about this trip that I have on my to-do list “open a life insurance policy”? No great insights here. I just figure that I might as well get the thinking-about-this-trip out of the way now, before I begin getting Che-inspired thoughts about Latin America and start advocating for socialistic reforms in the interests of social justice. If I feel those creeping in, I’ll need to know that I’ve already put any clap-trap vis-à-vis Nicaragua on paper, and that you don’t deserve any more of it in this feature of Because I Can.
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